


A Battle Fit For Queens

by nebusonny



Category: Queen B (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Canon Rewrite, Enemies With Benefits, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Threesome - F/F/F, to maybe something more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29022759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebusonny/pseuds/nebusonny
Summary: It's like Poppy and Bea are a twisted rendition of soulmates, like they were destined to hate each other.It seems that hatred is a great fuel for passion because, despite how much they hate each other, they can't stop thinking about the next time they're going to kiss.
Relationships: Poppy Min-Sinclair/Main Character (Queen B), Professor Kingsley/Main Character (Queen B), Veronica Lombardi/Chloe St. James/Main Character (Queen B), Zoey Wade/Main Character (Queen B)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	A Battle Fit For Queens

**Author's Note:**

> A Poppy-centric, enemies with benefits cannon rewrite of Queen B. There will be some Bea/Ina, Bea/Zoey, and even some Bea/Chloe/Veronica (sorry not sorry Carter), but the main focus will be on Bea and Poppy's relationship and their transition from being enemies to enemies with benefits to (possibly) something more. Rated M/E because of smut.
> 
> The first chapter takes place at the end of chapter two of the original book (frat party).

They kiss for the first time after only knowing each other for two days (well, Poppy clearly knew _of_ Bea for longer, but Bea didn’t know anything about Poppy before arriving at Belvoire, so those days don’t count). All their prior interactions consisted of yelling and obscenities, all of which had occurred in public. 

Bea _knows_ that Poppy instantly hated her, much like how Bea instantly hated Poppy. She saw it in Poppy’s icy, callous brown eyes the first time they met, and could feel it in the way Poppy kisses her, harsh and almost unpleasantly, her teeth nibbling and pulling on Bea’s bottom lip and her manicured nails leaving red marks on Bea’s skin.

The formation of her hatred for the Asian Regina George was so quick and instantaneous that it should have been disturbing and uncomfortable to Bea. It was, at first; Bea was taught that hate was a strong word and that God saw hatred as sin. Despite how weird and intense the feeling was, though, it felt so natural. It was as if it was fate for Poppy and Bea to hate each other, like they were supposed to be some sort of twisted rendition of soulmates.

Bea hisses when Poppy digs her nails into her waist and retaliates by tugging on Poppy’s hair almost to the point for it to be painful. They were here because Bea needed to go to the bathroom to clean off the neon green jello that somehow ended up inside her clothes. Bea didn’t mean to walk into the same bathroom Poppy was in. Besides, it was Poppy’s fault that she didn’t lock the door. They could have completely avoided this situation if Poppy had.

Instead, Bea opened the door to Poppy in her underwear, scowling as she harshly washed her hair under the sink faucet. Her clothes were in a messy pile on the ground next to a beige towel stained in green. Poppy had whirled her head towards the door and once she noticed who intruded her cleaning session, her lips turned into a nasty snarl.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Poppy spat, and Bea replied with a wicked grin, eyes trailing up and down the barbie-wannabe’s body. Just because Bea hated Poppy didn’t mean that she couldn’t admit that Poppy had one of the best bodies she’s seen.

“My, my… it seems that Belvoire’s queen is in quite a compromising position.” Bea leaned back on the wall next to the door and crossed her arms. “It’s too bad I don’t have my phone with me to post a picture of this on the T. I bet it would make the front page.”

Poppy slammed her hand down onto the faucet lever, promptly shutting off the water. She whipped her head up, her hair flinging droplets of water all over the bathroom, and slowly strode towards Bea. Her face bore a glare so sharp that it had an effect on the air, turning it tense and uneasy, making it difficult to breathe. It made Bea want to escape to a place where she could think clearly again, but at the same time, the fogginess and lack of air were tantalizing.

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation you’ve put yourself in by coming to this school,” Poppy started when her face was inches away from Bea’s. “I don’t understand if you deliberately seek to ruin your future because you’ve got a kink for humiliation or some other fucked up shit, but you need to understand that you’re ruining your life. You should leave if you give a damn about yourself.”

Bea raised her eyebrows, an impish grin still plastered on her face. Poppy’s expensive, pleasant-smelling rosemary perfume wafted into her face. For someone so bitter, Poppy smelt surprisingly sweet.

(It was also surprisingly difficult for Bea to stop herself from leaning forward.)

(It was probably because she was notably tipsy.)

“Was that supposed to be a threat?” Bea questioned playfully with a chuckle. “It’s funny that you think I could feel threatened by such a small, insecure snob. I’d feel more threatened by a hog.”

Poppy’s nose flared and she kicked the bathroom door closed with her foot. Her shift in position caused her to get even closer to Bea—close enough that Bea could see the dark outer ring of Poppy’s chocolate brown eyes and the barely visible bags under Poppy’s eyes.

“Did you just have the audacity to compare me to one of your stinky, _disgusting_ farm animals?”

Poppy’s voice came out in a low, dangerous growl, fitting for the cold atmosphere surrounding them. It raised goosebumps on Bea’s skin.

“What if I did?” Bea challenged the shorter girl. Her heart was beating at an unusually quick rate, as if she had just completed a mile-long marathon. Bea didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol making its way through her system or because of the fast-paced song that was playing on the other side of the door. All she knew was that her heart was racing so quickly that it felt like it was going to leap out of her chest.

Poppy responded to her challenge by grabbing Bea’s chin and pulling down, forcing Bea to lean down and become face-to-face with her.

“Then you’re dead.” 

Bea doesn’t know who kissed who first, but the next thing she knew was that she was holding back moans and struggling to stay standing as Poppy sucked Bea’s tongue into her mouth and dug her sharp nails into her neck. The kiss was rough and borderline painful and should have been the opposite of pleasurable, but instead, the pain amplified the pleasure and Bea’s pulling Poppy as close as she can and thinking that she doesn’t ever want to stop kissing Poppy.

All Bea could focus on was Poppy, how Poppy’s hands seemed unable to stay still, constantly moving and tugging and pressing, and how Poppy was _practically_ naked and so incredibly soft, a huge contrast to her stark personality.

(Bea remembers distinctly having a thought about how notably well Poppy’s body fit against her.) 

When Bea had to pull away for air, Poppy trailed her lips down Bea’s neck, nibbling hard enough for a spark of pain to travel through Bea’s body but not hard enough to leave marks. It was at this time when Poppy’s hand somehow ended up under Bea’s shirt, where it still currently remains.

Bea starts to feel a twinge of anxiety; she isn’t used to not being in control. In fact, it’s surprising that she lasted this long without becoming a big anxious mess. To rid of the anxiety, she switches their positions and presses Poppy hard into the wall. Poppy’s shocked face turns into one of pleasure when Bea’s hands trail down her body and grope her breasts over her bra.

Bea’s about to unhook Poppy’s bra when the bathroom door is pushed open. Bea can barely catch sight of the culprit(s) before she’s frantically pushed into the bathtub and hidden behind the shower curtain.

“Does _anyone_ know what knocking is!?” 

Bea hears a shriek. The culprits (who turned out to be Trixie and Michael, she later found out) profusely apologize and scammer out of the bathroom. A second after the door is slammed shut, Poppy flings open the shower curtain and stares down at Bea.

“So here’s how this is going to go. I’m going to get dressed up and leave the bathroom first, and you’re going to stay here and wait for ten minutes before leaving. You’re not going to tell _anyone_ what happened, or so help me, you’re going to be kicked out of this school tomorrow instead of next week. Are you clear?” Poppy orders and, without waiting for a response, turns around to get dressed.

After Poppy leaves, Bea gathers a bunch of paper towels to clean Poppy’s lipstick off her face and neck and to wipe off the jello under her shirt and in her hair. She snarls when she sees a red mark on her collarbone that she knows is going to bruise and adjusts her jacket to keep it hidden. It makes her mad enough that she walks out of the bathroom after five minutes instead of ten.

Bea doesn’t know if the academic dishonesty accusation was planned before the party or was because of her earlier departure. However, Bea does know that if there was a part of her that didn't hate Poppy before, it certainly did now.

* * *

They kiss for the second time not even a day later. It’s after one of their public fights, and Bea’s feeling significantly cocky. Bea had not only embarrassed Poppy in front of everyone, but also landed herself a TA position, ensuring that all prior claims of academic dishonesty would be dismissed.

Bea has Introduction to Statistics every Monday and Wednesday afternoon from 4 to 5. It’s one of the two classes she has with Poppy. It’s not as crowded as their anthropology class, so Bea can find a seat on the opposite side of the lecture hall from where Poppy’s sitting. She can’t focus in class, though. It’s not because she isn’t interested in math (Bea actually finds statistics somewhat enjoyable, as long as she knows what’s happening), but because Poppy’s staring at her the entire duration of the class. Some of their classmates even notice and start whispering about it because Poppy isn’t even trying to hide it.

(Bea can’t deny the buzz she gets from feeling Poppy’s eyes on her.)

(She also can’t deny that she hasn’t been able to get the moment she had with Poppy yesterday out of her mind.)

(Bea thinks that by the way Poppy’s staring at her, maybe she’s not the only one.)

When class is over and everyone leaves the hall, Poppy struts to Bea and pushes her to the wall. When Poppy leans in kiss Bea, Bea doesn’t stop her; instead, she aggressively kisses Poppy back, seeking the feeling of Poppy’s lips against hers again. Bea feels like a hypocrite. How is it possible that she hates someone so much, yet is so obsessed with kissing them? But when Poppy lets out a quiet moan, all Bea can think is that if fighting with Poppy meant that Poppy’s lips would end up on hers later in the day, Bea would gladly fight with Poppy.

Because the next class in the hall is at 5:30 and Belvoire professors tend to arrive 20 minutes early, the second kiss is a lot shorter than the first kiss. Still, Bea has to wipe off traces of Poppy’s lipstick on her neck before she leaves.

* * *

Poppy’s getting more handsy with Bea, Bea notices. It’s not necessarily only when they’re kissing (which has become a daily installment) but also on a day-to-day basis.

When they fight, Poppy’s pointing her index finger into Bea’s chest and pushing, not hard enough to knock her down, but hard enough that Bea has to catch her balance. When they pass each other, Poppy’s shoulder shoves into Bea’s and their fingers graze. 

Bea knows it’s intentional. Before they started kissing, Poppy used to shrivel her nose and avoid touching Bea like the plague. Now she touches Bea each time they meet like it's a necessity.

Bea doesn't know how to feel about it.

* * *

Bea’s putting her all into the half-time show. It isn’t only because of the rankings; it's also because she _needs_ to put Poppy into place. A small part of it is because of karma; Poppy needs to know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of being publically shamed.

The main reason behind why Bea’s working so hard, though, is borderline sadistic.

The thought of seeing Poppy humiliated in front of everyone makes Bea feel high. Whenever she imagines Poppy being in that situation, her heart rate accelerates and a wave of euphoria rushes through her body, like she's on drugs. She's never wanted something more; she's never felt this way before. Even though it's fucked up and means that Poppy was probably right (maybe she does have a kink for humiliation - if she’s not on the receiving end), it’s a longing so strong that it feels that if she passes down this opportunity, she’ll live the rest of her life in regret.

(Bea doesn't feel like it's healthy to feel this way.)

The only problem is Bea has never done anything like this before. She’s never danced or done gymnastics. Heck, she’s pretty sure she's never done a cartwheel before.

This, plus the fact that they’re popular, is why Bea asks the football team to perform with her. An added bonus is that Poppy’s very own boyfriend’s on the team.

There are some moments while they’re practicing when Bea gets so caught up in the thought of humiliating Poppy that Zoey gives her a weird look and asks if she’s okay. Granted, Bea thinks there’s something wrong with her. Bea used to _hate -_ or heavily dislike (for some reason, Bea’s only okay with using the word hate in the context of Poppy) - hurting people, even if it wasn’t intentional. In fact, all throughout high school, she was part of the student council and used to volunteer for several humanitarian organizations bi-weekly.

For some reason, Poppy causes her to act anything but normal.

* * *

Their performance is going really well. So well, in fact, that when Bea glances over at Poppy, Poppy’s wearing a facial expression mixed with rage and shock.

To say that Bea feels great is an understatement. The crowd’s screaming her name so loud like she’s the celebrity and not Jaylen Riaz and Poppy looks like a sad Dopey Cat. Bea feels like a puppy reuniting with its beloved owner after a long time apart; her heart is soaring and her smile is so wide it could rival the joker.

When the big screen narrows in on her for the kiss cam, Bea shimmies over to the sidelines to Zoey. They had discussed who she’d kiss beforehand when they heard that there’d be a kiss cam. It was easy for Bea to choose who she wanted to kiss; she liked Zoey. She’s reliable, smart, and has the cutest smile Bea’s ever seen. Bea wasn’t going to waste an opportunity to kiss the girl she’s crushing on.

But as she’s kissing Zoey she’s thinking about Poppy. She’s thinking about how Poppy’s lips are smaller but fuller than Zoey’s, how Poppy’s hands would be restless and not still like Zoey’s, and how much she’d rather be kissing Poppy than Zoey. She knows it’s messed up and extremely unfair to Zoey (Zoey has been an _angel_ to her when everyone else has been everything but) but kissing Zoey is nothing compared to kissing Poppy. It’s good enough to make Bea feel tingly, but after being exposed to Poppy’s intense and passionate kisses, Zoey’s kisses are almost too soft and too sweet for her.

When they break apart, Zoey gives her a cheeky smile and a soft shove. Bea shoots back a closed-mouth smile and dances back to the center of the field. When she reaches the center, she glances to where Poppy's at.

Suddenly Bea feels anything but great.

Poppy looks upset and so, so angry. It’s a different kind of anger than earlier; it’s an anger that stems from distress and hopelessness. Bea knows because she’s felt that way before. She still feels a reminisce of that anger when she thinks about her mother's side of the family and how they disowned her for being gay.

Poppy catches Bea looking at her and scowls, all traces of the previous facial expression disappearing in a blink. Bea feels a hand on her shoulder and sees Ford (out of all people) staring at her with a tilted head and furrowed eyebrows as if asking if she was okay. Bea takes a deep breath in and nods with a smile, striking the ending pose. She takes that moment to look at Poppy once again.

Poppy’s gone.

Bea’s hit with a wave of grief so strong that her chest feels like it’s ripping apart. It's an extremely amplified version of how she used to feel whenever she found out she unintentionally harmed someone. Bea shouldn’t feel this way. Her original goal was for Poppy to leave her performance feeling dejected and humiliated because she hated Poppy. But if she hated Poppy, why did she feel like she committed a terrible crime?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment or give feedback.
> 
> There's (probably) gonna be smut in the next chapter.


End file.
